


All the Beautiful and New

by dancinbutterfly



Series: Of Sharks And Men [1]
Category: Harley Quinn (Cartoon 2019), Justice League - All Media Types, Justice League Dark: Apokolips War
Genre: Falling In Love, First Meetings, First Time, Ghosts, Human/Monster Romance, M/M, Sex, Walk Into A Bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:49:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24089950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancinbutterfly/pseuds/dancinbutterfly
Summary: Of all the bars in all the world, John had to walk into King Shark's.
Relationships: John Constantine/King Shark, King Shark/John Constantine
Series: Of Sharks And Men [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1742329
Comments: 56
Kudos: 519





	All the Beautiful and New

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: My knowledge of Constantine is fucking minimal from a few eps of DCTVU, my knowledge of King Shark comes from a few comic panels, and the Harley Quinn Animated Series which makes up 100% of his characterization. Ok! lets get wild monsterfuckers.

So John’s just finished a particularly unpleasant haunting in at a Sandals in Mau’i. Real son of a bitch groom who fell off the balcony of his 23rd story honeymoon suite raging at his bride when she decided she’d had enough of his shit, that her mother was right, and that she never should have married him in the first goddamn place with an aborted male rage so powerful it somehow managed to trap the entire staff and his newly-married-soon-to-be-ex-wife-now-widow in the building for what John imagined was a rather miserable long weekend.

But once that’s sorted, the hotel gives him a room in addition to his fee in exchange for never, ever telling anyone what happens and John figures fuck it. Might as well. It’s a beach vacation with a comped room. So, he dumps his kit and does the reasonable thing that anyone in his position would do: He goes to find a beach bar and get pissed.

But they’re all so commercial, the beach bars. He’s not really interested. All the drinks are full of umbrellas and all the patrons chatty tourists who to fucking talk. To him. Ugh. No, ta.

So he wanders a bit farther into town. And a bit further. And a bit further til he’s witnessed one of those notoriously beautiful Hawai’ian sunsets and more importantly, finds a place that’s seems suitably disreputable. It’s got no windows onto the street. It’ll do nicely.

And of course, he doesn’t even manage to order a single drink before he notices the bloody shark at the bar. Because how can he not? He’s a fucking shark.

He looks up at him, up and up and up, at the shark man, the man who is also a shark, and goes, “Well shite.”

And the shark looks at him and smiles, with all those great bloody teeth, gleaming and bright, razor sharp with not a cavity in sight, and says, “Oh, hello there. I’m King Shark.”

And then he holds out his hand to shake, courteous as you please. Better manners than John managed when he met the Queen. Either Queen. Any queen. He’s met a few queens. And several kings. He’s never managed that good an introduction and is bollocking this one right up as well. Shit fuck damn.

He takes the proffered hand and shakes it. “Hi.”

“I’m a shark,” King Shark says cheerfully.

“Aye, that you fucking are.”

“And you are?”

“John.” John manages to choke out, because he is still holding this bloody shark’s bloody hand and that has been going on far, far too long. He should let go. He should let go or stop staring or something. But he can’t. So he at least makes a better stab at introducing himself. “John Constantine.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” King says and he sounds so genuine, so sincere, that John can’t help but smile back.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” And he means it. Because it is nice. This bloke is nice. He’s in trouble because he likes nice blokes. Nice blokes are lovely. It’s a problem because he is, in point of fact, not a nice bloke which is why this fact has never, ever once, stopped him although it does make him let go of King Shark’s hand, finally, fuck.

And since they’re there, they get a drink. They get several drinks and they talk. Turns out King’s in town visiting his mum, which is just lovely, isn’t it? King asks if John would like to see a photo and of course John can’t say no and also he’s desperately curious so there’s an hour gone of a nice shark man showing him pictures of himself and his mum, a completely normal looking older woman who only comes up to his mid-torso who is smiling in almost every frame and talking about how she won’t stop using Facebook no matter how many times he explains datamining to her.

“You work in computers?”

“I do. And my team is great. Really flexible and my boss, she’s great. A real outside the box thinker. What do you do?”

“I’m…in Human Resources.” It is not technically a lie. Technically. He was resourceful with people just this afternoon. He’s resourceful with humans all the time actually, blood, bone, cremains. He’s very resourceful with humans on the regular. He laughs a little at the thought and King laughs too and it’s a nice laugh. He’s nice.

And somehow that turns into John pushing up on on his stool and kissing him right there in the bar. Carefully. Because those teeth are very sharp. But he’s doing it, he’s kissing this very nice, very friendly, very warm for a fish-person shark man. Fuck, he doesn’t know. He’s been drinking. He’s had two entire shitty American beers. It’s a mad house, and King puts his strange fin-fingers on his face and kisses him back.

Careful. He’s so careful. Nobody’s ever careful with John but King is and he likes it. He likes him a bloody lot. Also, he watched a documentary on sharks once.

“Do you want to-” he gasps, when things start to get frantic and one of those teeth nick his tongue.

“I do. I really do,” King says, and his nose, wait, is it a nose, shark facial anatomy is not the thing he focused on in that documentary, but he’s a man too so John supposes it is his nose, whatever, it nuzzles his cheek and it’s a bit rough but the gesture is so soft. It’s gentle and it makes John feel weak. “But I’m here visiting my mom,” King says and he sounds really put out about it.

“You said. But I’m not visiting anyone.”

“Oh.” King grins, and it’s absolutely feral. “Well then that’s a different story.”

“So-”

“Yeah.”

“Brilliant. I’ll get the tab, you find us a ride, alright love?”

It’s not easy or cheap to find a cab that will take a shark man back to the hotel but it’s worth it. 

Oh oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck, it’s worth it. When he’s on his stomach, begging, crying, getting exactly what he wants, what he needs, what he didn’t even know existed it’s worth it. When King makes every thought in his his brain sizzle up with the pleasure so tight, so full it’s worth it.

He didn’t come here for looking for this but now he has it. He has thick arms that are impossibly strong, wrap around his chest, keep him close, breathe him in, make him feel held and he breaks. Strange lips press against his neck and say, “Oh, John,” and “That’s it, baby.” and “I’ve got you” it sounds like he means it.

John feels like he breaks into tiny pieces, scattered across time and space when he comes, like King has shattered him and cast his pieces to the four winds. It’s all so fucking good, so nice. He doesn’t really know what to do with any of it. 

So he definitely panics when King, still inside him, still nuzzling him like a large predatory amphibious kitten says “Hey, I forgot to ask, can I get your phone number?”


End file.
